


christmas expectations

by stephenssupreme



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Christmas Eve, Christmas Kisses, First Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-29 01:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21401857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephenssupreme/pseuds/stephenssupreme
Summary: Azirpahale invites Crowley over to his for the holidays and not everything goes to plan
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 12





	christmas expectations

Are you doing anything for the holidays, dear?

Course not.

Do you want to do anything for them?

Not particularly.

That's shame: I was about to invite you to mine for the special day. Well, I suppose I could always spend my time--

Invite me. (Thinking back on it, Crowley still couldn't believe those words came out of his mouth so fast)

Hm?

Invite me to yours: I'll accept.

Well, in that case I suppose I better make sure my table is set for two on the 25th?

24th if you're lucky, angel. (He needed to stop doing that - flirting when he knew he'd get nothing of the kind in return)

  
  


\-----

All of this had been organised back in October, Aziraphale always the fussy one who made sure plans were set far in advance to avoid clashing schedules (not like he was particularly busy after non-armageddon). To him, Crowley assumed, it was more of a passing thought, not reading too much into it, simply wanting some company in the cold months. The demon Crowley, however, oh he was reading into it as much as he inhumanly could. Under the usual circumstances he was the calm one, yet for the fourth consecutive week here he was fretting over what gift he could buy for his beloved angel. Everything he saw in the shops was far to mediocre for his celestial friend and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what kind of 'miracle' he could conjure up as a present. 

In the end he settled with something... Touching. He was sure it would be too much but he couldn't help himself when he saw it. He had been walking past a charity shop when he saw in the window a small, antique pocket watch, golden wings encircling the clock face. Not only that... The time it displayed... The exact time him and Aziraphale had saved the world. (Well, more so Adam but Crowley cared not to dwell on that.) The shop assistant made sure Crowley was aware the clock was stuck at that time and was redundant as a working time piece but nevertheless, Crowley urged for the purchase, actually paying a little more than needed - christmas spirit and all that, right?

Christmas eve soon came by, Crowley snaking out of bed in a groggy mood, hair stuck out at all angles except from the angel he wanted it at. It was also at that awkward length that never quite looks presentable - he had decided to grow it out again but naturally this time. Aziraphale had never miracled his hair and it looked perfect, he simply wanted a slice of that lifestyle and so far... He was definitely regretting it. As he swept past his desk, he swiped his phone up, shocked to see a text from Aziraphale.

3:23am: I never text but I assumed you'd be asleep at this hour and didn't want to wake you, Crowley. I was just wondering whether you meant it when you said I'd see you on the 24th? It was probably some kind of jest but as it happens, I wouldn't mind the company. I'll be warming up some mulled wine around noon-ish if you would care to pop by. Aziraphale

It took the sleepy demon a good few minutes to decipher the long winded text and once he fully realised what Aziraphale was trying to say, he quickly glanced at the time. 11:45am. He had time to make it. Totally.

A fluent snap of his fingers meant he was washed and dressed, his hair slicked back but still holding beautiful soft waves. Making sure he had everything he needed (let's face it, he only grabbed the now wrapped up pocket watch) he dashed out of his apartment, not taking a single look back, not even for his plants. They meant a lot to him but nowhere never as much as Aziraphale did.

The door of A.Z Fell's bookshop always open for Crowley be it locked or unlocked - a hypothetical 'key' given by the angel himself. Crowley would always be welcomed there. As he sauntered in, the sweet smell of spiced wine filled the air, the door shutting with a small ring of a bell.

"Ah! You received my text message!" Came a voice from round the back.

"I... Did. You know you don't have to sign your name at the end of it, right? I have you saved as a contact. (One of his only contacts). He made his way over to Aziraphale's voice as he spoke, slipping his gift into his coat pocket so as to not give it away too soon.

Aziraphale was sat on his sofa in his back office, two glasses of mulled wine down on the table in front of him. The bastard knew Crowley would come running at that rambling text. Damn him.

"I wanted to. Makes me feel like I'm still writing letters," explained the angel as Crowley came into view. "Come, sit." He patted the space beside him. Crowley had planned to sit on the empty armchair but if Aziraphale insisted... Well, he couldn't refuse, could he? Slouching down beside the man, Crowley shrugged off his coat and hung it over the side of the sofa.

"That's insufferable." Cute. He wanted to say cute. 

"You would say that, wouldn't you. I'll have you know, I could be modern if I wanted to. In fact, I am in some respects!" It was only when Aziraphale crossed his arms in defiance that Crowley noticed what he was wearing. He was adorned in a light blue jumper with a white shirt collar popping out the top. There was a lack of a bowtie but instead there were adorable christmas pudding pins on the corners of the collar. Everything else was the same but this new, festive look, well it made Crowley's self-proclaimed 'cold heart' skip a beat.

"Examples please, budget santa claus," he eventually drawled out, reaching forward to take his wine, almost downing it all at once.

The tip of Azirpahale's nose went read at that and his arms tightened more so. If Crowley wasn't already staring, he definitely would be now. "I... I enjoy the outdoors. That's hip and cool now, right? Caring about the planet."

"Bullshit," spat the demon, pausing to finish the last bit of his wine. "I know as well as you do that you'd much rather cosy up in here than be outside for too long. It's just your nature." He couldn't help but nudge him softly. "That's not a bad thing though."

Refusing to comment on that, Aziraphale was now the one to down his wine, only glancing up to mutter a slight 'I suppose' before placing the empty glass back down.

"I like you being old fashioned anyway. Always have. Makes me look much cooler than I really am." Smug as ever, Crowley hooked one leg up in front of him, holding it there as he leant back against the sofa's arm - he was practically sat sideways now, all attention on his angel. "Say, what do humans even do in christmas eve? Never really celebrated this shit before."

"Well some celebrate the holiday itself and exchange gifts on the 24th... Some just spend time together. I... I have a gift I wanted to give you." As he said this, Aziraphale began to look more flustered and regret flashed before his eyes.

"What's that then?" Asked Crowley, trying his best to remain cool and collected, instinctively slipping his hand behind him to feel for his coat pocket.

"Uhm... Would you care to take your shoes off the furniture first?" Glancing at his foot and then back to him, Aziraphale has an authoritative look about himself. At this, Crowley groaned and let his leg drop to the floor again, his boot scuffing against the rug beneath it. He was about to ask about this supposed gift again when he was caught speechless. Aziraphale, as soon as the leg was out of the way, had leant over and gently pressed a feather weight of a kiss against Crowley's unsuspecting lips. It was a brief moment, one that ended with Aziraphale instantly pulling away, a look of horror written all over his features. The poor man looked pale as he had been in his discorporated form. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"Ngk..." Crowley couldn't even get his words out, his brain lagging behind by at least thirty seconds.

"Oh my... I've royally fucked this up. I thought- I assumed- Oh no..." While he was busy fretting, Crowley finally caught up with what had happened.

"Fuck." A reaction to both the kiss and having heard Aziraphale swear so carelessly in front of him. Wanting to put a stop to his worries, Crowley was the one to shift closer this time, one hand landing on Aziraphale's thigh to steady himself. "Don't apologise, angel." His mouth twitched into a lopsided smile, one that probably looked absolutely stupid but stupidly in love nevertheless. "I just could have used a warning."

This time when they kissed, it was less of a shy touch and more like two pieces of a puzzle slotting together, warmth overcoming them both. Truth be told, Crowley didn't believe any of this was real. He assumed it to be one of his foolish dreams and that he hadn't woken up yet. Like all of the dreams he had experienced like this though, he committed to the part he was playing. Their lips parted after not too long, Crowley resting his forehead against that of Aziraphale. A bittersweet silence reigned over them until Aziraphale whispered: "I thought that would have felt different..."

Oh how that crushed the heart of Anthony Crowley.

**Author's Note:**

> time to dig up some hard truths lads


End file.
